


Ysolda's View

by Hopeful_monster



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, F/F, Not Beta Read, Public Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2018-09-24 01:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9694058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_monster/pseuds/Hopeful_monster
Summary: Ysolda is curious about the stranger that walked into Whitrun during the lockdown. She ends up finding more than she expected.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a fairly normal day for Ysolda, breakfast followed by her usual wander round the plains district  trying to pick up tips from the merchants. She tried a bit of trading, buying something for a few septims form one trader, then swapping to another trader for something of greater value, repeat until she had a tidy profit. It didn’t always work and her house was littered with items she couldn't trade or sell to get her money back on, but was too stubborn to sell for a loss.  

 

She was talking to Nazzeem, or more accurately she was being talked down to by him, when she heard the main gate creak open. up to recently would not have been unusual, but after an incident in Helgen the guards had been a lot more selective about how they let in. Shifting her weight, she glanced behind Nazzeem to see who was being let in, hoping for a trader or Ulag returning with the sap. No such luck on either front, as all she saw a hooded individual, and While she couldn't make out many details the hood and robes screamed Mage, and the slender build suggested elf but she had no was to be sure. When she added the fact that the guard was pointing in the direction of the cloud district it suggested Faringard or the Jarl had a visitor.  

 

 As the visitor strode past the barracks up to the wind district Ysolda lost sight of them, but even out sight, there was something… Off about the visitor. Not just the cloak and hood on such a sunny day, but the way they moved, they cut of the their robes, nothing definite, but something just didn't seem right.  When her thoughts returned to what was  in front of her Nazzeem was still there and hadn't noticed her lapse in concentration, and was still droning on about how he had advised the Jarl about some matter of great importance, she nodded absently, then made her excuses and left him up his own arse.  

 

As it was time for lunch she bought a few items, bread, cheese, some mead which ate into her days profits, but with the mysterious stranger (which sounded dumb as soon as she called him it) still on her mind she decided to sit under the Gildergreen hoping to catch sight of them on the way down from Dragonsreach.  She absent listened to the priest’s rant on how all life's problems were due to the abandonment of Talos, and thought through what the visitor might be.  she was confident on the guess of Mage, the robes were unlikely to be worn by non mages given Nordic views on magic and the mages that wielded it. Race was a bit more problematic, while all races could use magic elves were well known for their natural aptitude with the craft, however Breton was another possibility. She then remembered to Redguard warriors searching for one of their own, the scarred woman, which might explain the hood and cloak. While it all made sense, but she wanted to find out if she was right or not. 

 

Ysolda then noticed the presence of Lucia, standing nearby, staring not at her, but at the half eaten meal next to her. Once Lucia noticed she had been herself noticed, she asked “ Lady, could you spare a coin, I'm so hungry.”  

 

Ysolda smiled warmly at the thin child, nodded at the her lunch, and patted the bench next to her. “Come, sit and help me finish this.” 

 

With barely concealed glee the child sat and broke off a piece of cheese and bread, but before eating said, “Oh, thank you. Divines bless your kind heart." 

The small pieces disappeared quickly, and the look of satisfaction contentment it caused made Ysolda feel sad that no one was looking after her. When she asked why Lucia was begging, Lucia answered,   

 

"It's... it's what Brenuin said I should do. He's the only one that's been nice to me since... since mama...Since she died. My aunt and uncle took over our farm and threw me out. Said I wasn't good for anything. I wound up here, but... I.. I don't know what to do. I miss her so much..." 

 

This caused another surge of sympathy in Ysolda, who pushed the remains of her lunch towards the child, who after a moment of disbelief descended on the food with glee. However as Ysolda watched the food disappear she caught a glimpse of the hooded figure start down the stairs to the market.  

 

‘ _Damn,_ _must have gone the other way round the_ _Gildergreen_ ’, thought Ysolda, who stood up quickly. This startled Lucia, who shrunk back looking scared, “Sorry I’ve just seen someone I must speak with, fell free to finish the food.” 

 

The child relaxed a little, then reached into her clothes and pulled out a bundle of lavender tided together with a piece of stem in a bow, “Here, have this as gratitude.”  

 

Ysolda took the bundle held It to her nose, more out of custom than any desire to smell it, but the scent was strong enough to get up her nose without sniffing. She thanked the girl then hurried over to the stairs, stuffing the lavender into the pouch slung on her belt. From the top of the stairs she scanned the market for her target, spotting the hooded figure near the jewellery stand checking out the wares. As she walked down, the hood dipped in an nod, then walked over to Belathors shop. As the visitor strode over Ysolda saw something between the cloak and figure, a furry white tail. This answered the questions of race, the visitor was a Khajiit , but hundreds of others popped up in its wake. Why were they allowed in the city when most were barred, why did they go to Dragonsreach, were they permitted to enter and with whom did they want to speak?  

 

She pondered these and many more questions while eating and apple bought from Carlotta and enjoying the sun beaming down on her.  

 

When the Khajiit emerged from the shop he was clutching an object to his chest, then after a quick look around, slunk between Belathor’s shop and the Caldron. Since Ysolda’s house was the only building in that direction her curiosity turned to concern. She knew not every Khajiit was a thief, as most Nords seemed to think, but she didn't know if THIS Khajiit was a thief or not. She hurried round the other side of the caldron, to see the Khajiit going round the back of Ysolda’s house.  With no access to the house her concern diminished, as she wondered what the Khajiit was going to do. She wouldn't put it past Belathor to sell moon sugar or skooma,  but the caldron would seem a more likely place to find such substances.  

 

Rounding her house Ysolda peaked around to see the Khajiit sitting on some rocks, bags next to him basking in the sun, hood now off and the clutched item, a hair brush, in plain view. He took his speckled pale grey hair out of the clasp and shook his braids free, and then started brushing it in long, slow strokes. At the end of each stroke a small wisp of hair flew out and wafted away on the breeze  

 

After a minute or so of grooming both the head hair and facial fur, he took off his  boots,  stretching and flexing his paws, then gloves and the wrappings around the arms . Fur stuck out at odd angles, or was flatted the wrong way. It looked fairly comical, especially when the first few attempts ended in failure as the brush kept getting caught in the sleeve of his robes. Ysolda thought she had managed to stifle her giggle, but the cat like ears flicked about, followed by a quick glance around by the Khajiit. Fortunately for Ysolda he looked the wrong way first, giving her time duck out of sight and tucked herself between the wall of her house and some barrels. As she leant against the wall her pouch filled with coins,  and the lavender given to her by Lucia got pushed into her backside. Small stems and branches poked her rear uncomfortably but she didn’t move for fear of altering the Khajiit to her presence. After a dozen heart beats with nothing happening except the smell rising from the lavender, Ysolda risked a peaked round the corner, only to realise she had made a mistake.  

 

The Khajiit was not male. All she wore was  a piece of cloth tied at the neck and chest covering her front from neck to waist, with small breasts rising from her chest, and a small pair of underwear barley covering her butt to allow her tail to poke above the waist cord. The rest of her clothes where neatly piled next to her. Once the shock of what Ysolda was seeing had faded a bit did she notice more details. The how the muscles flexed and how it created patterns in the fur, but also the lines. If the Khajiit had been man or mer she would have said they were scars, unlit she realised that's what they were to a point. The blades had cut both skin and fur, and the potion or spell had healed the skin but left the fur damaged. This was most apparent on the large irregular patch on her shoulder were Ysolda could see the top layer of fur burnt away, revealing the under layer of fur and in places bare skin. After scraping away the burnt ends with a dagger the Khajiit started to brush her fur.  

 

After quickly redoing her hair and facial fur she started on her arms. Long slow strokes, from shoulder to wrist. Each stroke overlapping the previous but covering new fur, smoothing it, ridding it of dead hair, bits of grit and dust. making it look soft, sleek, sensual. Ysolda noticed with each stroke the Khajiit’s tail curled with the stroke, the flicked at the end of the pass. Unconsciously Ysolda started mirroring the Khajiit's movements, as much as positioning and biology would allow. Lightly brushing her arms in time with the cat, even though here clothes Ysolda's skin tingled a little as her fingers trailed over her arm, and she could feel warmth growing between her thighs. The Khajiit started quietly purring, stopping ever other brush or so to inspect her work.The Khajiit then moved to the the lower half of her body, so  Ysolda squatted leaning back on the wall of her house and hitched up her skirts a bit so she could get her get to her own bare flesh, but the fresh air also highlighted a damp patch in her underwear. The Khajiit started on the tops of her thighs, slowly pulling the brush down the thigh, then over the knee, down the shin sweeping of the top of the paw. The sweeping brushes continued, slowly down the legs, each stroke seeming made the legs that bit longer, that bit more scintillating.  

 

 By the time the Khajiit moved to her inner thighs, Ysolda's were already beaded with her juices. After a strange and disappointing  short sweep the Khajiit put the brush down, leaving Ysolda unsatisfied. When both of the Khajiit's hands shot down her own underwear, Ysolda smiled to herself and sent one of her own down between her legs, her skirts preventing both joining, so her free hand started massaging her breast. Spreading her lips with her two outer fingers, she slid her remaining fingers up and down her slit, coating them in her juices occasionally squeezing her button under its hood, sending shivers through her body when she did. After a few strokes her fingers were well and truly covered and she began rubbing with both greater speed and pressure. She turned slightly to get a better view of the khajiit, who seemed to be alternating between fast but light strokes and slower, stronger ones. Ysolda gain mimicked the cats movements and the shivers turned to waves of pleasure surging through her body. While she could not be sure exactly how the Khajiit was feeling from her face, her tails thrashes and almost growling purr  gave Ysolda the impression that like her the cat was nearing we climax as well. Moments later everything on the cat stood straight, hair, fur, spine,, tail before limply  collapsing after a heartbeat.  

 

Ysolda’s own orgasm was equally intense, each touch, brush or even motion or movement sent spasms of ecstasy through her body, the fading ripples bouncing back and  combining to intensity the next surge. After several seconds of this seemingly eternal bliss, the feelings began to ebbs away but leaving her skin flushed, her breath raggedy, her limbs weak, and a her mind blissfully unaware of her surroundings.  

 

Staggering to her feet and using the wall of her house for support, Ysolda began to make her way back to her house until she ran into a guard, almost literally.  

 

“Hail, we've had reports of a suspicious Khajiit in the area, have you seen one?” Asked the guard and all Ysolda could do was stand a blink for a moment before shaking her head, not trusting her voice. However even the slight movement caused her head to spin forcing her lean more heavily on the wall. The guard asked “ Are you alight?” 

 

Ysolda cleared her throat before answering, “ I'm not feeling myself right now.”  

 

 _Well it is true_ _,_ she told herself _, on many levels_ _._ She decided that the truth, properly worded would be better as her skills in outright lying where dreadful. Also the longer she kept the guard here the long the Khajiit would have to get away or at least decent. The guard helped her plan by asking if she needed help.  

 

“If you could help me to my door, I'd so be grateful. The fresh air of the planes helped but not as much as I'd hoped.” As much as Ysolda hated playing the weak woman, but knew it could be a powerful tool when dealing with men. As she expected he offered her an arm, which she leaned heavily on, and he commented, “ Yes, you looked flushed earlier but now you look a little peaked.”  

 

Ysolda knew what he mean, but still thanked the Divines she was wearing a leather corset so he couldn't see the other way she was peaked. They slowly made their way round her house and when they got to her door he leaned in and sniffed deeply. ‘ _Oh crap, can he smell my cum?_  

 

“Ahh, lavender. You been speaking to Lucia, haven't you?” Ysolda gave a sigh of relief and wondered if the girl's blessing had worked, but said “Yes, I gave her some food earlier.”  

“Ah, that's good to hear,” her replied, “she needs kind people looking out for her.” 

 

By then they had reached Ysolda's front door and the guard, ever helpful, asked if there was anything else he could do. Since the juices running down her leg were beginning to cool and become unpleasantly sticky she asked for a pail of water. However by the time he had returned with it she had collapsed into bed and fallen asleep ,fully clothed to the smell of lavender.  

 

When she woke it was already dark and her stomach was complaining noisily for giving most of her lunch to Lucia. As she moved to get up she felt the crusty residue of her juices coating the inside of her legs. She decided to deal with that first and wiped herself down with a cloth and the water the guard had brought, being careful not to simulate herself anymore. With the market long closed, she headed to the Bannered Mare to get something to eat.  

 

Though business was down due to the city being locked down the Mare was busy with locals, so it was a few minutes before Huldi was able to take her order and longer still until the bowl of venison stew was in front of her.  Once it was it was all she could concentrate on, as she was filling her belly with the thick stew she did not notice someone coming up behind her and sniffing her. The first she knew of the person behind her was when they purred in her ear, “This one greets the Nord who smells of lavender.”  

 

Being taken completely by surprise Ysolda gave a startled squeal, dropping her spoon. She turned while in an irritated voice said “Don't scare me like … that.”  

 

The last work faltered and the blood drained from her face as she came face to face with the snowy furred Khajiit she had watched earlier. However the Khajiit lowered her head and clear blue eyes and flattened her ears looking like a chastised kitten then said, “This one apologises for scaring you. It is said Khajiit like to sneak, but in truth we are merely very good at it. Again this one is sorry.”  

 

Ysolda breathed an internal sigh of relief as seemingly the Khajiit hadn't noticed her earlier and so replied, “ It’s alright, I was distracted. Hello, my name is Ysolda.”  

 

“This one is Ko’Isra,” the Khajiit responded, and motioned to the chair next to Ysolda's, “ and this one has heard you are interested in Khajiit. May we talk?”  

 

Ysolda tried not to think of the double meaning in Ko’Irsa’s words, but nodded and sat down. Once both were seated they began to chat about all manner of things. For example that she was an apprentice alchemist who had left home to hone her craft and get more experience with the exotic  ingredients. She had fled to Skyrim after a ‘misunderstanding’ about moon sugar in Bruma. This lead to her views on the the substance “For Khajiit moon sugar is like mead for Nords, some is fine, but too much is bad, yes?”  

Ysolda thought on this and of Bernuin and had to concede the point, and since they shared the opinion that skooma she let it drop. Ysolda was curious about Ko’Irsa’s experiences in Skyrim, given what she had seen and heard what had happen to the Khajiit trading caravans. The Khajiit’s response was cagey at best. “The people of Helgen? Not so nice to Khajiit. They accuse this one of many things that are not true. Khajiit is thief, Khajiit is smuggler, Khajiit is Stormcloak, Khajiit is Alduin.”  

Ko’Isra became more agitated the more she spoke of Helgen then stopped and stared at her mug of mead before taking a long drink from it. “Even so Khajiit would not wish their fate on anyone. This one does not want to think of it anymore. On happier thoughts the people of Riverwood where very nice to Khajiit.” 

 

The two continued to talk longer into the night until they noticed that they were the only customers left in the tavern. As they said their goodbyes Ko'Irsa leaded over, her whiskers tickling Ysolda’s cheek, and whispered in her ear, “And if the Nord that smells of lavender want to do more than watch this one she would not mind.” 

 

The Khajiit turned gave her a quick lick with the soft tip of her tongue, then disappeared upstairs leaving a rapidly reddening Ysolda to work out what see wanted.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Bars and bothersome bards

It had been over a week since Ysolda had seen  Ko’Isra leave for bleak falls barrow on the Jarl’s orders, and she was starting to get worried.  as on top of the Jarl’s mission there was the dozen or so errands the people of Whiterun had for her. Having seen Ko’Isra’s journal it seemed to be largely fetch requests, ‘go get my family's spoon from somewhere’, ‘go collect 13 skeever tails for potions’, or pest control of the dangerous vermin that called Skyrim home, both the two and four-legged variety.  

 

 Ysolda was also troubled to see her off the cuff remark about wanting a mammoth tusk amounts to the list, as though the creatures were largely docile, there were reports of them stamping men and mer to paste. On top of that was the fact that mammoths were often guarded by giants that could knock you clear into the next hold. She didn't want Ko’Isra to get hurt on account of her.  

 

If she was honest with herself she would have admitted to why she was missing the Khajiit. After she had arrived they had spent quite a bit of time chatting with the her as she prepared for her trip for the Jarl. Ko’Isra had spent a day selling off an odd assortment of armours and weapons from ‘ people who had forgotten that Khajiit had claws’ and buying things more suitable for herself, Ysolda had even helped Ko'Isra get better deals on the supplies she was buying. The next day Ko'Isra spent adapting and altering everything for her build and physiology. While the heavy items had to be done at War Maiden’s, Ko'Isra did the cloth alterations under the Gildergreen. This caught the interest of the children of Whiterun, who snuck around trying to get a good view without being seen.  Ysolda was sure they where trying to reconcile the tales of Khajiit thieves, smugglers and sugar tooths with the sight of one stitching a hole in trousers for her tail.  

 

Thought the Khajiit didn't seem to have noticed the children, Ysolda could see her ears tracking them as they darted about. After nothing exciting happening Braith decided to up the ante by pushing Lucia towards  Ko'Isra hoping the Khajiit would do something interesting like maul the girl. In defiance of Braith’s expectations, and maybe hopes, the two just ended up chatting and Ko'Isra even volunteered to take her flower collection the next day, then show her how to brew simple potions. The ‘clanless cub’, as Ko'Isra called her, manage to make a few by the end of the day and then sold them to Arcadia, earning enough for a meal at the Bannered Mare. The three of them had sat down and had a meal together and Lucia was so proud to be able to buy a meal with money she had earned, rather than begged for, she was practically glowing.  

 

While they were waiting for their food they were join by the imperial greengrocer Carlotta and her daughter, as the inn was full due to the fact the gates had reopened.  The children  started nattering away  almost instantly, leaving the adult to talk amongst themselves once introductions were out of the way. However it wasn't long before the imperial groaned and shaded her eyes saying, “Mara’s mercy, he's coming this way.” 

 

Ysolda and Ko'Isra shot each other a confused look before the Nord asked, “Who?” 

 

“Mikeal, he's trying bed me. I've heard him boast he'll ‘tame me like a true Nord. As if I'm some kind of animal.” Carlotta spat, still trying to avoid the sight of the bard. There was a slight pang in Ysolda’s chest once the imperial had finished, as she'd been fond of the bard when he'd first arrived. The had even had a drunken fumble which didn't get far because of how drunk he was. Afterwards he never mention the night and ignored her since then. Given his state during the incident she wasn't sure he remembered. It also hurt that she wasn't mentioned in his ‘Gentleman’s Guide to Whiterun’.  While she didn't want to be in the book because of what it represented, the fact she was left out made her feel she wasn't attractive enough to be included.  

 

Ko'Isra’s reaction was visibly the opposite of Ysolda's. Her ears flattened, her eyes narrowed and she let out a quiet hiss, startling the others round the table. “This one will have words with him.”  

 

Mikeal had made his way over with singing and strumming his lute but finished his song as he reached them. “Ah my fair Carlotta, so good to see you. Can I tempt you with a song? Or one for your friends perhaps.” His eyes flitted over the kids, who ignored him, and Ysolda before settling on Ko'Isra. “Oh and who is this little sabre cat?”  

 

Ko'Isra subtly changed posture, and Ysolda winced knowing that Khajiit hated being called a cat figuring it was like calling a human an ape or some other dumb animal. She was surprised, however, when Ko'Isra said sweetly, “This little one? She is Ko'Isra, and who is the one speaking to this Khajiit?”  

 

Ko'Isra’s body language was one of meekness and innocence, ears flat back, eyes wide and her body hunched and her head looking up at the bard like a meek kitten. At this Ysolda felt very, very sick. The bile crawling up from her stomach burned like the fires of the Red Mountain. No one else noticed, of course, Mikeal launched into a self aggrandising introduction, Charlotta merely looked bemused and the children were more interested in their whispering about mammoth boogers (or something similar). Mikeal finished his introduction saying something like ‘you're the cutest little kitten I've ever seen.’  

 

The acid feeling reached the back of Ysolda's throat at that, but it got worse when Ko'Isra put a finger on his chest and replied, “Oh you.”  

 

“This one has seen you here most moons, singing songs and telling tales.” Ko'Isra’s finger slowly started wending down his chest. Ysolda grabbed her mead and drank deeply to quench the acidic taste filling her mouth, seemingly unnoticed by everyone. Ko'Isra continued her digit going lower, “ Khajiit has heard you are a true Nord, with many brave adventures to your name and able to tame wild beasts.”  

 

Ysolda was ready to throw up as Ko'Isra’s finger got to Mikeal’s belt but the mention of ‘ taming beasts’ checked her. It also made a slightly confused expression crease his face which had been practically glowing with the Khajiit’s words moments before. Before the expression, and the train of thought that went with it, could become fixed Ko'Isra flipped her wrist and her hand went lower grabbing his undivided attention as well as other things.  

 

“This one is sick of your screeching’s ever night, you sound like a Pahmar with its tail caught in a door, your boasts are childish and puerile and you smell like skeever that has been living in horker dung.’  

Mikeal may have been offended by Ko'Isra’s words, but he was too busy trying to balance on the tips of his toes, keeping away from the Khajiit’s sharp claws. “Your attentions are not wanted here, not by this one, nor my Imperious friend and we will no longer put up with them. **Go.** ”  

 

With her final command Ko'Isra released the bard who sprang back, hopefully out of reach of grasping claws. He quickly looked around to find out if anyone had seen what had happened and if anyone was going to help him. Obviously everyone had seen what had happened and were enjoying the unusual but highly entertaining show unfolding and wouldn't stop it for all the sugar in Elsewhere. Many were whispering to each other surreptitiously, while others were much more obvious in their viewing of the spectacle. Hulda however had taken out the club she used to ‘educate’ unruly patrons as to what acceptable behaviour was but was waiting to see if it was necessary to use it.  

 

Realising that the crowd was not on either one of their sides and he was not going to get support he decided to make a strategic exit, and said with painfully obvious fake cheer “ I know parting is such sweet sorrow but I must go and rest for tomorrow's performance.”  

 

As the bard left coins changed hands as the results of bets and Hulda put the club away, happy that the matter was over. However the loudest reaction came from Jon Battle-Born who proclaimed loudly “ By the gods it's good to see that milk drinker run away with his tail between his legs, especially after being bested by a woman.”  

 

Ko’Isra was quiet for a moment wearing a puzzled em then with a look of enlightenment exclaimed loudly, “ Oh! Is that what it was. Hmm, Khajiit’s tail is much bigger.”  

 

With that, the hushed whispers were drowned out as entire bar burst into laughter.  

 

Ysolda smiled at the memory of that night, and wandered into the Bannered Mare for dinner. The place was packed and despite Mikeal’s absence as loud as ever so she missed rustling behind her. However all the din seemed to fade away as she heard a voice behind her say, “ Greeting, this one is pleased to see you.”  

 She turned to see the smiling Khajiit sitting in the corner, a large mammoth tusk rising from between her legs. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for more. Moved from Japan to Australia, Ondrive's being blotchy and I had a hair cut (the longer my hair the easier I find it to write, but the more depressed and headaches I get).


	3. Chapter 3

“If you are sure it is no trouble for this one to stay Khajiit will, but..” Ko’Isra stood at the doorway, hesitant to enter but Ysolda would have none of this. She gently caught the Khajiit’s hands (paws?) and lead her across the threshold. “If it was a hassle I would not have invited you. Besides if you had not spent so long talking to me you would have got a room at one of the inns. Welcome to my home.”

With the last sentence, she turned and gestured around her home and noticed how cluttered it was with unsold items ranging from alembics to callipers, spears to spell crafting supplies. If was not as bad as it had been while Whiterun had been locked down, but much of the living space given over to stock. The Nord hoped that the Khajiit wouldn't be put off by the mess, and was disheartened to hear a little gasp from Ko'Isra before she whispered in awed tones “So many treasures.” 

Ysolda smiled, she never could predict her friend’s reactions or comments. It was one of the reasons she liked spending time with the travelling alchemist from Elsweyr. After so many years she could predict what most of Whiterun would say in any given situation, but not so Ko'Isra. She kept the Nord guessing, fed her curiosity and made Ysolda’s life interesting. While she had no desire to go off and adventure like some she knew, she loved hearing about them. 

Ko'Isra had dropped her large pack on the floor by the door and was looking around the piles of stuff, occasionally cooing or making appreciative noises at things she found. Ysolda was really relieved that her friend wasn’t put off by her clutter, it gladdened her more than she expected, however a loud grumble from her friend's belly soon put a stop to the exploration and a start to the cooking. The Khajiit turned out to be quite the accomplished cook, explaining that it’s was as much a science and art as alchemy, but by the way she tenderised the mammoth meat seemed to have more in common with blacksmithing. 

By the time they both women were fed they were also yawning loudly and Ysolda realised that there was only one bed in the house and little to no space to spread a bedroll on the floor without moving half the furniture or accumulated junk. So she said to Ko’Isra “You can take the bed, and I’ll take the floor.”

The Khajjit looked up surprised at Ysolda, and maybe a little pained? Sad? Insulted? Ysolda couldn’t tell, but whatever it was her response was, “It is your home and Khajjit could not kick you out of your bed.” 

Ysolda winced, figuring she had made some cultural faux pa, the suggested, “We could share?” 

This suggestion seemed to agree with Ko’Isra, who smiled broadly and nodded. Ysolda went through to her bedroom and quickly changed into her night clothes. As she put on the simple linen shift she silently wished she had something fancier, maybe with some embroidery or tailored to compliment her figure, but this was the first time since she’d left her parents home someone had seen her going to bed. With growing apprehension, she called through to the main room, “You can come in when ready.” 

“This one is ready. You are too, yes? Good.”

Unsure what, if anything, Khajiit wore to bed Ysolda was surprised to she Ko’Isra enter her room wearing nothing but a sheet, wrapped around her artfully leaving a gap for her tail but covering her body from ankles to neck, with a bare shoulder and excess cloth draped over her arm. It reminded her of descriptions of first era imperial or Akaviri dress. Ysolda was surprised how elegant she looked, but also how comfortable it would be for the Khajiit. Loose enough to let her fur to lie naturally, warm enough for the climate and gave space for her tail to move freely. 

As they got into Ysolda’s single bed they realised they couldn’t lie side by side, shoulder to shoulder, and even attempts to get comfortable with Ysolda on her side and Ko’Isra on her back failed. Eventually, they both ended up on their sides with the Khajiit’s back to Ysolda. Once settled and in the most comfortable they could be Ko’Isra extinguished the light, plunging them into a dark world where sound, scent and touch were the senses that Ysolda had to rely on. 

As they lay there Ysolda tried to work out what, if anything, should happen now. Should they talk? That seemed safe, but what if Ko’Isra wanted to sleep? If they did talk, what should they talk about? What if she didn’t want to talk but be … physical. She knew about how men and women were… intimate, and had heard that it was much the same with mem and mer, but what was unsure if there what differences there were with the beast races. While Ysolda had heard of women being intimate with each other, the tales were often light on detail and often part of some fanciful Dibellian or Daedric orgies. 

After a few minutes of silence, Ko’Isra spoke, “Ko’Isra thanks the Gods for our meeting. Were most Nords have been mistrusting and dismissive, you have been kind and welcoming. Without you, Skyrim would be the cold, hostile land people claim it to be.” 

As she spoke arm moved back and touched the top of the Nord’s before sweeping down until the khajiit’s hand had reached Ysolda’s. Grasping then squeezing it, Ko’Isra continued, “This one wants you to know how important you are to Ko’Isra.” 

Ysolda squeezed back but was unable to find the words to respond, mainly because her feelings were a jumbled mess, and everything Ko’Isra said sent her mind spinning further into chaos. Soon Ko’Isra’s hand slackened and her breathing slowed, indicating that she had fallen asleep. It took much longer for Ysolda to fall into sleep’s embrace. 

 

Ysolda and Ko’Isra ran, hand in hand, through the grasslands around Whiterun. The long grass brushing the Nord’s legs, pushing her skirt higher as they went. They were on top of each other, bodies pressed together, but not in any form of embrace. As they lay, Ysolda could feel something long and hard between her legs. It felt weird, but not a bad way, more a growing warmth below her belly, which was filling with butterflies. As she moved it rubbed against her, increasing the warmth and butterflies in a delightful way. She continued to rub, trying to get the most friction possible on the shifting object as Ko’Isra lightly tickled her buttocks and back with her fingers. 

Despite her best efforts, Ysolda couldn’t get enough purchase to get release, getting her more and more frustrated. The heat grew intolerably until she awoke with a start. It took a moment for realist what was going on. She was still in bed, at home and between Ysolda’s legs was something thin, film and slick with her juices. Ko’Isra was also in bed with her, was it her male member? No, wait she was female or at least Ysolda was pretty sure of that and Khajiit physiology couldn’t be that different. Tail, that’s what it was. It had to be. With that mystery solved the hot, wet mess around the tail barged it way back to the forefront of Ysolda’s mind. Maddeningly close to climax and the sweet release it promised, but she could think of no way to get it without waking Ko’Isra. 

Slowly and carefully she got out around her the bed’s other occupant and made her way into the small house’s only other room. Silently she wished she’d bought a drape for the door to her room to obscure what she was about to do. Hiking up her shift in the dim light of the banked fire she began rubbing in earnest and with barely a handful of strokes was at the verge of release before three things happened at once. Ko’Isra spoke her name, a pale white light erupted in the room and the Ysolda pushed herself over the edge into a powerful orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, a combination of a few things. Firstly the plot bunnies for 'Life is strange' in my head have been breeding like there's no tomorrow, and have kind of tapped my creative juices more than this one. Second, had a bit of a block with this chapter (hence the cliffhanger), and lastly, I haven't been playing much Skyrim. Always meant to go back, but said to myself I would when the Script extender for the special edition came out... and that didn't happen.   
> Hopeful the new computer will give me an excuse to play more Skyrim and inspire me again.

**Author's Note:**

> Damn that took a long time to finish, little over a year and a half, not because of writers block or terrible personal circumstances, just good old fashioned procrastination. 
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and feedback please. There are a few more chapters in the old noggin but if there is demand I'll bump them ahead of all the other plot bunnied that are currently running around in there.


End file.
